I had often dreamed of icebergs and Polar bears, whales and rorquals, of
walruses and seals, of Esquimaux, and Laplanders and kayaks, of the
Aurora Borealis and the midnight sun, and numerous other wonders of the
arctic regions, and here was I on board the stout ship the _Hardy
Norseman_, of and from Dundee, Captain Hudson, Master, actually on my
way to behold them, to engage in the adventures, and perchance to endure
the perils and hardships which voyagers in those northern seas must be
prepared to encounter.
Born in the Highlands, and brought up by my uncle, the laird of
Glenlochy, a keen sportsman, I had been accustomed to roam over my
native hills, rifle in hand, often without shoes, the use of which I
looked upon as effeminate. I feared neither the biting cold, nor the
perils I expected to meet with. I had a motive also for undertaking the
trip. My brother Andrew had become surgeon of the _Hardy Norseman_ and
we were both anxious to obtain tidings of our second brother David, who
had gone in the same capacity on board the _Barentz_, which had sailed
the previous year on a whaling and sealing voyage to Spitzbergen and
Nova Zembla, and had not since been heard of. I was younger than
either, and had not yet chosen my future profession; though, having
always had a fancy for the sea, I was glad of an opportunity of judging
how near the reality approached my imaginings, besides the chief motive
which had induced me to apply to our old friend Captain Hudson for leave
to accompany Andrew.
I had undertaken to make myself generally useful, to act as purser and
captain's clerk, to assist in taking care of the ship when the boats
were away, and to help my brother when necessary, so that I was
generally known as the "doctor's mate."
The _Hardy Norseman's_ crew consisted of Scotchmen, Shetlanders, Orkney
men, Norwegians, and Danes. The most notable among them was Sandy
Steggall, the boatswain, a bold harpooner, who possessed a tongue--the
second mate used to say--as long as a whale spear, which he kept wagging
day and night, and I got no little insight into the particulars of our
future life by listening to his yarns.
We had not been long at sea, when one night, it having fallen calm, I
went forward, where I found the watch on deck assembled, Sandy and two
or three others holding forth in succession, though the boatswain, by
virtue of his rank, claimed the right of speaking the oftenest.
Wonderful were Sandy's yarns. He told how once he had been surprised by
a bear, when, as he was on the point of being carried off, he stuck his
long knife into bruin's heart, and the creature fell dead at his feet.
On another occasion, when landing on the coast of Spitzbergen, he and
his companions found a hut with three dead men within, and others lying
in shallow graves, the former having buried the latter, and then died
themselves, without a human soul near to close their eyes. Again, he
had come upon the grave of an old shipmate who had been dead twenty
years, whose features, frozen into marble, looked as fresh as when first
placed there, the only change being that his hair and beard had grown
more than half a fathom in length.
Yarn after yarn of shipwreck and disaster was spun, until I began to
wish that David had not gone to sea, and that we could have avoided the
necessity of going to look for him.
With the bright sun-light of the next morning I had forgotten the more
sombre hues of his narratives, and looked forward with as much eagerness
as at first to the adventures we might meet with.
That afternoon I had occasion to go into the hold, accompanied by the
boatswain and another man carrying a lantern, to search for some stores
which ought to have been stowed aft, when, as I was looking about, I
fancied I heard a moan. I called the attention of the boatswain to it.
We listened.
"Bring the light here, Jack!" he said to the seaman, and he made his way
in the direction whence the sound proceeded. Presently, as he stooped
down, I heard him exclaim--
"Where do you come from, my lad?"
"From Dundee. I wanted to go to sea, so I got in here," answered the
person to whom he spoke, in a weak voice.
"Come out then and show yourself," said Sandy.
"But that's more than I can do!" was the answer.
"I'll help you then," returned the boatswain, dragging out a lad about
my own age, apparently so weak and cramped as to be utterly unable to
help himself.
"We must carry you to the doctor, for we don't want to let you die,
though you have no business to be here," observed Sandy, with a look of
commiseration. He afterwards remarked to me, "I did the same thing
myself, and I couldna say anything hard to the puir laddie."
The boatswain at once carried the young stranger up on deck. The
captain had begun to rate him well for coming on board without leave,
but seeing that he was ill fit to bear it, he told me to summon the
doctor, who was below.